User blog comment:Bartholomew Billberry Bowstring/Sharpe's Highwaybeasts/@comment-3135907-20120327205345

The arrow strikes Deathslunk's left leg, grazing it as the fox dodges a slight bit too late to completely avoid the projectile. "Haha!" he says, motioning with a paw. Arrows zip like angry hornets toward the hares. "Hey!" says Coryn. "I say, unfair! He's got minions!" Then out of the corner of her eye she spots a stoat in a tree and whips her dirk from its small sheath. In seconds it hurtles through the air and an anguished cry rings out as the stoat plummets thirty feet to the ground, where he hits with a sickening crunch. Four vermin dash from under cover and charge toward Sharpe's Highwaybeasts, lashing out rocks from their slings and arrows from their bows. An additional sniper continues loosing arrows from a longbow, sitting in an ancient elm.